


i've got you

by MayWilder



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: College, Gen, Happy Ending, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23596273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayWilder/pseuds/MayWilder
Summary: Peter's hand slides into Harley’s, and he glances over with his eyebrows raised in question. The other boy looks surprised, his hand tightening into Peter's like an instinct. "Hey.""Hey," Peter smiles.**Or, two boys are falling in love, and sometimes it just takes a little communication.
Relationships: Betty Brant & Harley Keener, Betty Brant/Ned Leeds, Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Michelle Jones
Comments: 29
Kudos: 316





	i've got you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shaderose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaderose/gifts).



> Maddy, even though our relationship is platonic, this is for you. Think of it as a late birthday present to remind you that we are here for you, always! Never be afraid to be clingy or show your love because the discord is your family. Love you honey! 
> 
> Shout out to Enzhe for being an amazing beta!!

Peter first notices it with Betty. 

Betty is a physically affectionate person. They like to run their hands over shoulders, squeeze hands, ruffle hair, and hug. On the couch, they slide next to whoever is closest and tuck their head under that person's chin. As long as the other party is willing, Betty just...attaches. 

So when Harley joins their ragtag group of friends in their first year at Columbia, Betty opens their home and their arms—a metaphor, Ned dramatically insists, for how they open their heart. 

Harley doesn't seem to know what to do with the physical affection. The first time Betty hugs him, his eyes widen and he accepts it, but doesn't do much else. They say goodbye, take Ned's hand, and walk out the door. Harley stares after them. He looks confused, but pleased, and can't seem to refocus his attention until Peter calls his name for a third time. He floats back over to the switch and proceeds to get absolutely crushed in Smash Bros. 

The next time, Peter watches as Betty runs up behind Harley and jumps on his back. The two are developing a deeper friendship than he has with anyone outside of Peter. It's clear in how openly Harley holds on to Betty's legs and swings them around for a better embrace. When Betty simply laughs, Harley beams, and one of his arms stays around their waist until Betty leaves to pick up MJ. 

From there, things kind of neutralize. Betty's touches increase with Harley, and he doesn't react any particular way. He begins to return bumping shoulders (something he's only done with Peter until now) and leans more into hugs. He initiates holding hands with Betty and Ned, or opens his arms for a snuggle. Peter is man enough to acknowledge his own insecurity—he's wanted Harley since they met, and has slowly been spiralling towards something so much more. He definitely doesn't think he makes a secret of it. He prioritizes Harley over himself, finds excuses to be around him, only uses certain terms of endearment for the other man (Harley's reaction to being called "love" is priceless). Peter also doesn't think he's alone in these feelings. Harley seems to reciprocate in most actions and attentions, but this  _ specific kind of attention _ he thinks they could share is never directed at him. Always to Betty.

And then, oddly enough, to Ned. 

Harley will come in after a long day of classes, see Ned studying on the couch, and verbally request an embrace. He lets Ned sling an arm around his shoulders when they walk from class to class. He'll bring Ned a coffee from his time at work, and Ned will gasp and smack an obnoxious kiss on his cheek. Harley will laugh, wipe away the kiss, and act like it's the best sign of affection he's ever received. 

And their _hugs_. 

Ned has always given the best hugs. But when he or Betty hug Harley, the blonde absolutely melts into the arms of whoever is hugging him and seems content to stay there. 

Peter is  _ jealous _ . 

The thing is, before Harley met Ned and Betty—when he was just spending a summer in New York, hanging out with Peter at the compound and training to be an Avenger—he thought it was only a matter of time before Peter worked up the courage to ask him out. They were comfortable together. They sat close, and sometimes Harley didn't flinch when Peter's arm came out to tap him on the shoulder. These things, combined with the rest of their relationship, meant it should be easy. Right? 

Wrong. 

Peter was discouraged, because other than that, the only time they touched was when they trained. 

After Harley begins getting comfortable with Betty and Ned, Peter feels like he's getting the short end of the stick. He wants to be able to touch Harley in the way Betty and Ned do, not just when they're rolling around on the mats in the gym. They should be able to connect more, right? Harley is going to be the next Iron Man, they're being groomed to lead the next group of Avengers. They're the only two in the world who can understand what it's like to be in their positions. 

So why, why in God's name, can they not click the way that Peter thinks they should? 

"You're ridiculous," MJ says when he tells her. Everyone is watching the original Star Trek series (because apparently it's the superior space story, in Harley's eyes) and Peter has been roped into helping MJ refill drinks. Betty and Ned are snuggling on the couch, Harley on the floor in front of them while Betty braids his growing hair. 

"I am not," Peter pouts. "There's something going on with all of them, right?"

"Not unless there's also something going on with you and Ned and Betty," MJ points out. "Or for that matter, me and you."

"That's different, you don't trust anyone to touch you."

"Besides you."

"It's because I saved you from a burning building." 

"Yeah, exactly, I let you hold my hand and hug me, but it doesn't mean that we're dating. Its so fuckin' archaic to think that physical affection equals romance. Some people just like to be touched."

"But they all touch often."

"Yeah, because Harley asks for it, initiates it."

"Then why doesn't he initiate it with me?" 

"You literally just said that you noticed how Betty had to break the ice. Have you done that with Harley?" MJ cradles three beers and a lemonade, eyebrows raised. "Now get the chips, Parker, and pay some goddamn attention." 

Feeling chastised, Peter obeys. 

**)-(**

Later that night, when Peter and Harley are leaving Ned and Betty's apartment, he decides that he's going to believe MJ. Maybe he really does need to just initiate. So as they walk down the streets, Peter takes a chance. 

His hand slides into Harley’s, and he glances over with his eyebrows raised in question. The other boy looks surprised, his hand tightening into Peter's like an instinct. "Hey."

"Hey," Peter smiles. 

Harley walks Peter back to his dorm in silence, and Peter thinks this first experiment was a success. 

**)-(**

Because Peter is a coward, he doesn't take it any farther.

But Harley? 

Harley blows the doors wide open with one simple act. 

It starts when, the next day in chem lab, Harley slides next to him at their table and Peter's heart goes into overdrive at the smile he gets from the other boy. He doesn't get a chance to comment on his mood, as Harley's thigh is suddenly pressed alongside Peter's. When the brunette looks up, Harley isn’t making eye contact, but is still smiling. Peter can only press his thigh back in some sort of silent communication. 

Harley ducks his head, pleased, and pulls out his notebook. 

Not even three hours later, they're eating lunch out under a tree because everyone miraculously has a break at the same time. Harley finishes his lunch a little after Peter, and doesn't hesitate to recline with his mop of blonde curls in Peter's lap. 

"I think I could easily fall asleep." Harley closes his eyes. 

Betty looks up to Peter, using their hand to make a motion of petting Harley's head. It's tempting, he can admit. Carefully, he raises his hand and settles it on Harley’s hair. The boy beneath him stills for just a second before leaning into the touch. This encouraged Peter. He threads his finger into the strands and brushes it back, pleased when he sees goosebumps down Harley's arms. 

With one hand he reads for Lit, the other he runs his fingers through Harley's hair. 

The quad clears for classes, but Harley and Peter are both staying behind because Wednesday afternoons are clear. So Peter feels like he can set his book aside and look down. He expects to see relaxation or even a sleeping, peaceful Harley. Instead, he's greeted by the sight of parted lips, flushed cheeks, and a light sweat shining along his forehead. There's a tightness in his hands, gripping his own jeans. 

"Harley?" Peter whispers, dropping his hand. "Are you—?"

"I gotta go." Harley shoots up. He grabs his bag and stammers through excuses, none of which are coherent enough to make sense. Peter rises as well, reaching out to— "Please, don't touch me. I cant-you don't understand."

Peter makes a noise of frustration before reigning it in. This isn't about him. This is about Harley. "So tell me. I'll wait if you don't want to talk now, but know that I'm here and I'm open to understanding what's going on. Talk to me, Harls."

Harley looks scared. It's in his inability to keep eye contact, in the way he keeps a certain distance and his hands twitch. "Peter, I thought I could--control myself. You know? It's easier with Betty and Ned because there's no, there's not--it’s not more." 

"More? What does that even mean?"

"How do you not know?" 

"Baby, I am _so confused_ right now, I don't even know how to tell you." 

Harley digs the heels of his hands into his eyes. "God, Peter. I like you. So much, and I want to touch you, without restraint, but if I do? I'm fucked. You'll be weirded out, and my therapist says that it's normal for a kid in my situation, but you getting spooked wasn't what I wanted, even though now you're definitely gonna think I'm insane."

"Harley, Harley." Peter steps forward, and Harley steps back. Whatever is happening, it's intense. "I'm not freaked out, okay? I just want to know what's going on. And before you panic, please know that I like you too. It's actually kind of ridiculous. So trust me, please?"

Harley makes a noise in the back of his throat that sounds suspiciously like a whine, but he drops his hands from his face and sighs. "Come to my apartment?"

Peter says yes. 

**)-(**

"I'm touched-starved. Or whatever."

They'd walked to the apartment with a safe distance of three feet between them. Peter had been silent the whole way, following Harley's lead. He's still really worried about Harley—the other boy's hands were still twitching, and he kept practicing what Peter recognizes (from experience) as breathing exercises. 

So now, as Harley speaks, Peter doesn't interrupt.

"It's like. My dad walked out, okay? And my sister doesn't like being touched, at all, by anyone. She just can't deal with it, it makes her skin crawl. Whatever though, it's not her fault. But it's also not my fault that my mother was never around to give me a u sort of physical affection, or that I was a town pariah because I was gay so nobody wanted to touch me."

Peter listens. 

"Tony, he pays for therapy because I cried for an hour the first time he hugged me, and could hardly say words when Pepper did that thing she does, with the hair? Yeah, that fucked me up." 

Understandable. 

"And I know that this shit isn't my fault, but I had this boyfriend, last year in high school. He was in the closet, so everything was a secret. When it was just the two of us, when I didn't feel like we had to hide, I was so touchy, that I felt like I was going to explode if I couldn't get some skin on skin. He hated it, though, so much. So, you know, whenever he reacted negatively, I pulled back. It hurt, but whatever. I learned my lesson. Even though I spent all summer falling in love with you and your stupid kindness and the way you listen and laugh and try to save the world—well, I learned my lesson. I wasn't going to make a move because all these feelings bursting out of me could not be attractive in any way. And I want you to think I'm attractive. Not just in, like, how I look, but my personality? So even if you didn't want me the way I want, we could still be really good friends. I wanted to be normal, wanted you to think I was normal.

"And then Betty comes out of fucking nowhere with their hugs and their surprise affection, and they just lavish it like I mean something, and so I get comfortable and am like, yeah, this shit slaps. Then there's Ned! And Ned knows how to snuggle man, and he hugs so well and throws them out like little gifts raining from the sky. It's ridiculous. 

"But you. You're good to me, and most of the time I think you want more. It's just, there's this part of me that absolutely fucking knows that the closer we get, the more time we spend together, the more I want to--to  _ touch you _ . It killed me to not basically throw myself at you because you are _safe_ , Peter Parker, and I think that, on a general basis, we could be pretty good together. I want to show you, but also, I don't want to scare you.

"So, yeah. In conclusion, I am a very emotional person and I have all these feelings and my skin itches with the want sometimes and I don't know what to do with myself. I'm sorry. I-yeah, I'm just. Sorry." 

"Harley," Peter murmurs, stepping forward again. He's encouraged when, this time, Harley let's him. "Baby, if you need physical contact because you've not been given it enough, don't feel like you need to hold back. We're safe here, like you said, and I will support whatever you need."

"Sometimes it's bad," Harley warns. He's stopped shaking, but his hands snap forward to graze Peter's wrists. "Especially with you, I want so much. I need to be so close to you—

"So come close," Peter says. "I'm not going anywhere."

Harley doesn't resist then. Peter sees the relief on his features as he accepts Peter's words as truth and they fold together. It's fantastic, to finally be so close to Harley, to let the other boy's body press all along Peter's. His hands slide up Harley's t-shirt and greedily grasp at bare skin. In turn, Harley wraps his arms around Peter's shoulders, letting one hand travel down his spine and the other cup his neck. Harley ducks his head to bury in Peter's hair and breathes shakily, so Peter continues rubbing soothing circles into his back. 

"I've got you," he whispers, lifting his head to press a kiss to Harley's chin. "Okay? I do."

"I didn't want to risk anything." It's a whispered confession. "God, this whole summer, I wanted you so much, just to...touch and feel. You're strong and safe and loving, and I-I thought, he has to feel good to hold, but I was worried once one of us made a move I wouldn't be able to stop from touching you all the time. And I want to, so much."

"You can, love. Here is my blanket permission to touch. Maybe not to have sex, because that's definitely a day by day basis for me, but I'm telling you that you can always  _ touch _ me. And I promise to try and communicate that I want it from now on." 

Harley swallows, but says nothing else. Peter honestly isn't sure how long they stand there, wrapped up in each other. He continues a light exploration, lips brushing across the skin of Harley's jaw, neck, and ear. His hands map every line.of muscle in Harley's back. After a bit, he moves to finding the divet between his shoulder blades, the light ridges of his spine. The fronts of their bodies stay pressed together until Peter gently pushes Harley onto the mattress and sets about touching, kissing, tasting the skin of his torso. 

Somehow, in all of this, their clothes fall away. Peter has no intention of them having sex. He is, however, absolutely determined to let Harley feel as much as he can take. So he marks up the other boy and lavishes attention on him. Harley sighs every time Peter grazes his knuckles over his ribs, and flutters his eyes shut when Peter massages his hands down his thighs, while simultaneously tasting his way around his hip bones. 

When Peter's got his lips at curve of Harley's knee, hands easing tension from his calves, he sees the blonde's hands twist into the sheet. 

"Need me to stop?" he questions, letting his temple rest on the kneecap. "Take it back."

"It's not that," Harley says, breathing as if he's finished one of their workout sessions. "Just—do you—maybe you could come up here?"

Peter complies. He presses one last kiss to Harley's thigh before easing up his body. Letting Harley take the lead, he doesn't protest when Harley's hands squeeze his hips and pull them back against each other, nothing but the thin line of their boxers to separate them. Though his body is certainly interested in the length of Harley pressed against him, he's more occupied with how the other man shudders at the full body contact. Their legs slot together, and as Harley's hands stay at Peter's sides, Peter reaches to tuck his face into the crook of Harley's neck. He uses one hand to twists back into the blonde curls. It's good to feel how Harley begins to relax more. 

"Fuck," Harley says. "You feel so good, darlin'. I never thought I would have this."

"I'm sorry you had to experience something, or lack thereof that made you think that way," Peter says earnestly. "It's shit. But I am going to try to give you what you need." 

Harley must be crying, because something wet hits Peter's forehead. 

"Peter, sweetheart...you already do."

**)-(**

It's sunset when he wakes up. He doesn't experience any kind of confusion; Peter knows from the moment he regains consciousness, that Harley is the one running his hands down his body. The curve of his ass is currently being caressed, and his shoulder is getting chaste kisses brushed across it. The dichotomy of the the acts amuse him, and he turns his head to say something before his eyes catch Harley's. He looks well rested, happy, and...something Peter can't place. 

Harley blushes when he sees them awake. "You said blanket permission and—

"I meant it, Harls. You can keep going."

The blush stays, but his hands resume their task of seemingly memorizing the lines of Peter's body. Harley has no reservation about him. The usual straight spine is curved with comfort, his eyes heavy lidded and his smile…

Relieved. Comfortable. Above all, content. Harley is content with the situation. 

"Wanna order in tonight?" Peter murmurs his question. "We can put on Star Trek."

Harley blinks, slow and considering. "Yeah. I think that sounds great."

They haven't kissed. They haven't discussed their relationship status, or Peter's unfair jealousy over platonic affection. There's probably logistics to work out and real conversations to have, but he doesn't think that they're going to happen tonight. 

No. 

No, for tonight, Peter is going to lay against a headboard, Harley between his legs and against his chest, eating pizza and watching Star Trek. 

And for tonight, that's enough.


End file.
